Amor Vincit Omnia
by LoveTempest
Summary: Al Potter and his siblings and cousins may belong to the most famous wizarding family, but they are still susceptible to mistakes, laughter, heartbreak, and love. Will they rise to the occasion when a web of brutal dark attacks, hints from the past, and mysteries about their new classmate ensnares the wizarding world?
1. It Begins: Al

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. I am merely playing in at as I try to get this idea out of my head.

Although this story will switch perspectives between the Weasley-Potter children, it will be Al-centric.

_Amor Vincit Omnia: Love Conquers All_

* * *

_CHAPTER 1: IT BEGINS_

_Al_

"You're _joking_."

Albus Severus Potter—or Al to his friends and family—couldn't help the twitch of amusement that befell his lips as he took in his cousin's wide-eyed expression.

"You _are _joking," Rose Weasley decided.

"_No. _Severus Snape really did work as a triple-agent for the light, killed my _other _namesake, and died at the hands of Voldemort's snake because he loved my grandmother. My dad told me over the summ—"

"And you didn't tell me until _now_? We saw each other practically _every day_—"

"Rose, keep your voice down," Al hissed, looking around nervously. Everyone else in the Hogwarts's enormous Great Hall, however, seemed occupied enough with greeting friends they had not seen all summer.

"Why? If Severus Snape really did do all that, people would know," Rose pointed out primly.

"Just like we knew how absurdly famous our parents are until they told the whole lot of us about the Boy-Who-Lived mess the year before last?"

Rose paused. "Ok, point," she admitted. She suddenly glared at her cousin again. "But you still haven't explained _why you didn't tell me._"

"I—I don't know." Al fidgeted, unable to explain his thoughts. He looked up suddenly, meeting his cousin's bright blue eyes. "Just—what if we were in Slytherin? Like Severus Snape."

"_What_?" Her eyes narrowed. "I know what this is. You're so used to James's taunts about Slytherin, that now that he didn't say anything all summer—because you were sorted into _Gryffindor _last year—your, like, subconscious is taking over. But seriously Al—"

The boy rolled his eyes, shifting his attention from the nonstop words: he knew from experience that his cousin wouldn't notice. Besides the red-brown hue of her bushy hair, Rose was the spitting image of her mom. Al had long ago decided that her personality, however, was 1 part his Aunt Hermione's intelligence, 1 part his Uncle Ron's obtuseness, and 2 parts utterly, stubbornly, unique.

As much as Rose emulated her mom, Al was the carbon copy of his dad down to this jet-black hair and brilliant green eyes. Now, those eyes surveyed the hall around him. Despite the shenanigans he got up to with the massive Weasley-Potter clan all summer at the Burrow, he had sorely missed Hogwarts. It was good to be back, he decided.

"Al!"

He jumped as Rose's monologue gave way to an excited squeak and a tug on his arm. His head followed her gaze to see Professor Neville Longbottom, who also served as Head of Gryffindor, leading a line of shivering first years into the enchanted hall.

As the sorting ceremony began and Rose finally fell quiet, Al distractedly listened, attention instead straying to study his three cousins in the waiting line of eleven year olds: Louis, Dom's quiet brother who was already turning girls' heads; Roxanne, Fred's laughing, exuberant sister; and quirky, flirtatious Lucy. As Louis leaned on the wall next to them, Roxy and Lucy chattered nervously.

"Louis Weasley," Hogwarts Headmistress Minerva McGonagall finally called, as stern as she had been nineteen years earlier.

If anyone could hide his nerves, it was the only known male part-Veela, who walked calmly to the stool before putting the Sorting Hat on his head. Still, Al threw a smile at his younger cousin.

Suddenly, however, he felt something hit his head. He caught the offending object before it fell to the floor. _A carrot_? Al looked up, catching the gaze of James—his insane miscreant of an older brother—who was mouthing 'Ravenclaw' and holding up five fingers. Al made a face, before his eyes flickered between James's cocky grin and Louis's straight back. 'Gryffindor,' he mouthed in return.

Two seconds later, the pronouncement: _Ravenclaw! _

The blue and silver mass two tables down erupted into cheers as Louis made his way over with one last look at the Gryffindor table.

Al blinked, even as he stood up cheering with the rest of his cousins.

Now that Victoire had graduated, the only returning Weasley-Potter kids at Hogwarts were Molly, a fifth year; James, Fred, and Dominique, third years; and himself and Rose. And even though inter-house rivalries had largely dissipated since Al's father's time, since Ravenclaw had taken Molly, the rest of the family had been uniformly dumped into Gryffindor.

Indeed, it was very much true what everyone else said: the Weasley-Potters and their friends dominated the school, sure, but ruled Gryffindor.

And _that, _and not James, was why he could not keep Severus Snape off his mind. Since his father had told him about his namesake and how house rivalries had fed the Wizarding Wars, Al had, for the first time, been disappointed to not be the Weasley or Potter to break the tradition and be placed elsewhere. Especially, ironically enough, in Slytherin.

Now, Al studied Louis. After Lily and Hugo were sorted next year, a whopping eleven Weasley-Potters would roam the halls of Hogwarts, and Al found himself surprisingly pleased with the knowledge that another of his cousins would not be a lion. He opened his mouth to voice his thoughts to Rose, before shutting it again.

The front of the hall recaptured his attention before he could dwell further, however, as Lucy's name was called.

This time, Al caught James's eye. If the Weasley-Potter rule was really broken…'Hufflepuff' he suggested.

Shaking his head in mock dismay, his brother spelled out 'Gryffindor' with his wand.

Al watched Molly's intense gaze, honed through years of obsessive studying, focus on her younger sister as several minutes slipped by. As such, he saw Molly's jaw drop before he registered what had just happened.

_Slytherin!_

Al could feel his own face imitate Molly's as moment of shocked silence permeated the Great Hall. Loud, raucous cheering broke it, and Al turned to see James tugging Fred and Dom to their feet as he yelled, winking at a frozen Lucy.

Al turned to look at Rose as they and the rest of the Great Hall quickly joined in.

"Wha—" she began.

"I have no bloody idea," Al muttered back.

Her cousins watched as Lucy took a deep breath before walking over to the green and silver table and offering a hesitant smile at her dubious looking new housemates.

The murmurs taking place across the Great Hall subsided, however, as Professor McGonagall cleared her throat before announcing Roxanne's name. The Potter brothers met eyes once more, still a little thrown by what happened.

Roxy, Al reasoned though, was far too much Fred's imp of a sister to be in any house but one, despite the Hat's seemingly rebellious mood this year. 'Gryffindor', he quickly claimed. James apparently agreed as he pulled a face before offering 'Ravenclaw', just to be contrary.

Al was sure his brother and him were not the only ones in the Great Hall looking at each other like gaping idiots as the Hat's voice boomed once more. _Slytherin!_

That was when Al decided he was rubbish at betting.

Fortunately for Al's pocket, the Sorting Hat had completed its task with his family for the year. When there was one student left, however, and the students had for the most part switched their attentions to restlessly anticipating dinner, Professor McGonagall stood up.

"Along with our new first years, I am also pleased to welcome a new student who will be joining the second-years. I hope you will do your best to make Seph Blake feel welcome," she said gesturing at the sole other figure at the front of the hall.

Al watched the boy's shoulders stiffen before he walked with a remarkably indifferent bearing over to the stool, seemingly ignoring the infamous collective gaze of the piqued Hogwarts student body.

The Sorting Hat was only on his head for a few moments before it pronounced its judgment.

_Gryffindor!_

Amidst the applause, once more lead by an over-the-top James, Al studied the boy who was—apparently—his new classmate. He was a little shorter than Al, but his tidy black hair swept over dark blue, not green eyes. He was also quite good-looking, with aristocratic features like those Lucy, Roxy, and Lily were always begging Louis to put in his drawings.

The boy flinched as James threw an excited arm around him, before he ducked out and sat stiffly at the end of the table.

Al turned to Rose. "Hogwarts gets new second-years?" he asked.

She frowned. "I've never heard of that happening in the past. But he must be feeling incredibly nervous. Let's offer to show him around. And then we can ask him what the deal is," she finished casually.

Al snorted causing his cousin to grin sheepishly. Like Rose could ever not pursue a curiosity. But before he could say anything, both cousins were nearly knocked off their seats as a resounding boom shook the Great Hall.

Al turned towards a grinning James in disbelief. His brother was standing atop the Gryffindor table, his wand levitating a giant heart in front of a blonde at the Slytherin table. As several newly-sorted first-years squeaked, Al realized the heart actually seemed to be made up of an assortment of underwear…and judging by the squeaking first-years' red faces, he could guess where they came from.

"Kylie Greengrass. My love. Will you not go out with me?"

Kylie was a Slytherin in Al's year who Al had had no idea James fancied. Then again, James's fancies were only fancies in that they were fancifully fleeting.

As Dom and Fred started snickering uncontrollably, Kylie seemed to accept, and Professor McGonagall ordered James to sit down, Al banged his head on the table, all thoughts of Seph Blake forgotten.

Why again did he enjoy spending nine months each year in the same castle as his brother?

o0O0o

_1 September 1996_

22 years earlier, a figure whose dark hair and gait could have allowed him to be mistaken as an older relative of Al's, braced his hands upon the back of a gouged and worn wooden chair. The ramshackle room he was in, however, was as far from Hogwart's Great Hall—in atmosphere and appearance—as one could get. He peered across the matched table at his three cloaked companions.

"I—_we_—have to do this." His knuckles tightened as he spoke.

"Just stop and _think_ about what you're saying. This isn't some bloody school prank. We're talking about the most powerful Dark Lord ever." The voice came from a wiry figure; it struck somewhere between furious and desperate.

"Exactly. And that's why I'm joining him," the first speaker said.

Another of his companions stepped towards him, cloak billowing behind and revealing feminine features. "_You_ are going to get yourself killed."

The figure by the chair straightened and looked directly at her. "I don't plan on giving Voldemort a reason to kill me."

The wiry speaker exchanged looks with the fourth and final person in the room before letting out a frustrated sigh. "Fine. _Damn it._ We'll move forward. And Merlin, I hope you are alive to receive your Dark Mark come tomorrow."

* * *

A/N: Review? (:


	2. Letters to Germany: Molly and Dom

Just as a note, this story does fit into the canon-world.

* * *

_CHAPTER 2: LETTERS TO GERMANY_

_Molly and Dom_

_2 September 2018_

Molly Weasley was pissed at her cousin, one Victoire Weasley.

The stupid, perfect half-Veela had better be feeling repentant for graduating at the end of last year and leaving Molly the sole sane member of their far too large family at Hogwarts.

After the Wizarding Wars—Molly never understood why her Aunt Hermione and Uncle Harry found it so amusing that their abbreviations of WWI and WWII had stuck—the Weasley family had been content to collectively pile their attention on the young Teddy and soon following Victoire. Their other child was the wizarding world, struggling to rebuild.

Over four years after the war's end, however, Percy had burst red-faced and frantic into the Burrow announcing his wife's pregnancy. His wife Audrey, a muggle, had taught him to forgive himself again. Molly, as stubborn as the rest of her cousins, taught him it to fight again.

At first, Percy had been afraid she would grow up caught in the middle as he had. His worries increased when the next Weasley-Potter children did not arrive until two years later, and, when they did, entered like wands with the same core. Back-to-back surprise pregnancy tests, temperamental wives, and emergency trips to St. Mungo's left the family exhausted and utterly bemused.

Molly, however, never had a worry. Since she could remember, she had been treated as the pampered baby sister of Teddy, Vic, and all of their friends.

A hand messing her hair interrupted her practiced glower.

"Molly! And here I thought I'd scared you away. You've been avoiding me since term began." The gently teasing voice that accompanied the hand belonged to Frank Longbottom, Neville's oldest child and a Gryffindor in Molly's year. The dirty-blonde-haired boy idolized Teddy and had thus been in the perfect position to become one of Molly's closest friends in her year.

"Hi," Molly smiled. She lifted her chin from where it rested upon her propped up hands as he slid into the seat next to her.

Molly nodded towards the Gryffindor table where James, Fred, and Dom were seated. "Did you tell him off for his stupid stunt last night? Classic James, harassing the first years on their first night here." Her expression furrowed in disapprovement.

Frank mock groaned. "I tried. But, well, you know James. Your cousins make being Gryffindor Prefect kind of hell."

As the corners of his mouth betrayed his fondness for Molly's younger relatives, she glared, sweeping a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear.

"I don't understand where his personality came from," she growled, harboring no such feelings. "I mean Uncle Harry is the Head Auror and Teddy, who James basically grew up with, was the model Head Boy."

It was true: Teddy—a Hufflepuff—and Vic, along with their five closest friends, had done a lot to decrease the inter-house rivalry that lingered after the Wizarding Wars, much to Harry's delight.

Frank laughed. "That's not fair, comparing the kid to Harry and Teddy. Besides, it's James. He probably looked at the personalities around him and then modeled his own to be as contrary as possible." Molly's resulting scowl only left him concerned, however. "What's really bothering you? James rarely irks you this much. Well,_ okay_ not really. But he hasn't been so bad yet."

She frowned before shooting an uncertain look at her friend. "I—I guess I miss Vic. I feel out of place here without her."

"So write to her." He cut off her attempt to protest. "Molly, I'm sure she's missing you too."

Molly reluctantly nodded. Later that day, she began to pen a letter to her oldest cousin.

_Dear Vic,_

_You better be having tons of fun with your _husband_. I might then forgive you for not writing to me until now. I still can't believe everyone let you and Teddy get married straight out of school. Then again, the two of you have always acted like a wed couple, so actually officiating it wasn't a big deal. __Hogwarts is the same as ever…not as exciting as Germany, I'm sure. __Louis (or Dom more likely) has probably already written to you about the sorting this year. I guess I'm happy to finally not be the only non-Gryffindor in our family. Speaking of Gryffindors, James has already succeeded in scarring the first years._

_I miss_

Molly sighed before glaring at the piece of parchment. She crumpled it up before heading to class.

o0O0o

_Merlin Teddy, it was so great—you should have seen the look on their faces. Or on Molly's for that matter. In other news, Gryffindor is going to destroy Quidditch this year—_

_Oops, I'll finish this later. James, Fred, and Alice are coming over, and we may be planning how to nick Al's cloak… (don't tell Vic I said anything!)_

_Lots of love,_

_Dom_

Dominique Weasley—or Dom if you did not want to get hit—scowled as Alice Longbottom snagged her letter out of her hand. She had been leaning against the wall near the Great Hall, simultaneously waiting for her friend and cousins to turn up and watching Peeves, the resident poltergeist, try to sneak dungbombs into the bags of first years.

"Not 'Dominique the Unique'?" Alice smirked, looking at how Dom had signed off.

James, Fred, and Dom had been ten when they had accidentally—or not—blown up the kitchen at the Burrow, where the Weasley-Potters had a long-standing tradition to gather for brunch every Sunday. Inevitably, the trio ended up cringing under the onslaught of the collective wrath of their mothers and aunts.

"James Potter II, Fred Weasley II, Dominique Weasley—" her Aunt Ginny had been yelling when Dom had suddenly interrupted.

"Dominique the Unique."

Ginny had paused, thrown, while James and Fred had looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"If they get to be James _the Second_ and Fred _the Second_, I get to be _Dominique the Unique_." Her aunt had not been amused.

Alice, on the other hand, had just recently heard the story and found it hilarious. She had taken to calling Dom 'Dominique the Unique' at every opportunity, which was exceedingly odd given that she was normally a head and shoulder above the trio in maturity.

But such escapades were normal for the trio. Given that Dom's Uncle Harry, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione had been best friends since they were eleven and had practically raised their kids together, Al and Rose's friendship made sense.

James, Fred, and Dom's friendship made trouble.

Like his and Al's ten year-old sister Lily, James had inherited their mother's brown eyes and dark red hair, but the red defied gravity like every other Potter male. Fred, one of James's two best friends, was the even-darker-red haired son of the owner of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

The duo pranked with wild abandon and was well on track towards receiving the most detentions and howlers in Hogwarts history. James's mom, the liberal instigator of most of these howlers, blamed her husband and her brother, accusing them of tempting fate by naming their sons James_ Sirius_ and Fred _George_, in what she claimed was an act of conspiracy.

Right now, Fred's arm was thrown around Alice, his one month-old girlfriend.

Dom completed the quartet of third-years. Unlike Vic and Louis, who had inherited their mother's Veela looks, Dom was endowed with reddish-blonde hair that fit right in with her two cousins.

Now, Dom grinned at her friend and cousins. "Guys. I have the most brilliant beyond brilliant plan for Operation Norris this year."

"Operation Norris?" Alice interrupted.

Fred put his hand around her, smirking. "It's what she calls her ongoing feud with Filch."

Alice groaned, but Dom only tapped her foot impatiently until she had the pair's attention once more. "We ally with Peeves," she said.

James, who had been leaning forward in anticipation, leaned back and rolled his eyes. "Not this again," he groaned.

"Wait—no—I'm serious."

"She is?" Alice's eyes grew wide.

"Shut up."

"Dom, you're insane. Peeves_ does not_ work with anyone." That was Fred.

"He did with your father…kind of."

"We can solve this real easily. Hey Peeves! _PEEVES!_" James called across the hall to the poltergeist, causing Alice to groan again as other heads turned their way.

The mostly transparent figure floated over. "Is the wee Potter boy offering himself up for dungbomb practice?"

James shook his head before smiling winningly. "We—" he gestured at himself, Fred, and Dom, "—are committed to making Filch's life hell. And we were wondering if you would like to combine forces."

Peeves cackled. "The icky, icky students think that Peeves will work for them." He swept down and stole Dom's letter from Alice's hand. "But Peeves doesn't do alliances. He wreaks havoc unbiasedly on all."

"Hey!" Dom protested, as the poltergeist disappeared with her letter. "You—you swarmy—_Hey!_ I was writing that!"

James and Fred's laughter cut off her affronted protests. She turned to glare at them.

"Mark my words; Peeves is going to be my ally by the end of the year," she bit out. Obnoxious disbelievers that they were, they just snorted at her. Dom never remembered to rewrite the letter.

o0O0o

In another time, a short, cloaked figure stole one final glance at the looming turrets of Hogwarts before casting his letter off to Germany.

* * *

A/N: If you've read this far, you probably have something to say...


	3. The Fight: Roxy and Al

Things pick up...

* * *

_CHAPTER 3: THE FIGHT_

_Roxy and Al_

_15 September 2018_

Roxanne Minerva—her middle name had been her father George's magnum opus against the Hogwarts Headmistress–Weasley was very early to Defense Against the Dark Arts. That was probably a good thing, she decided, as she did not want to give the very intimidating Professor Zabini—who happened to be Roxy's Head of House—any chance to single her out.

Seeing Lucy, she crossed the room. Her cousin was sitting next to a beautiful girl who Roxy recognized to be Lyra Zabini. Roxy sighed. Lyra was an okay sort, but her slightly cold nature was far too similar to her father's.

"I heard you managed to blow up a cauldron in Potions today," she nonetheless offered the two with a grin when she reached them.

Lucy stuck out her tongue before winking at Lyra. "We had to debase expectations that Zabini here would live up to her family's skill in Potions somehow, didn't we?" she offered, procuring a snort from the Zabini heir.

Although both Roxy and Lucy had inherited their grandfather's brilliant blue eyes, they were as different as night and day. Like her older brother, Roxy's mischievous eyes clashed alarmingly with her dark skin and dark red hair. Like her older sister, Lucy's were framed by freckles and unobtrusive brown locks.

All three looked up as a group of Ravenclaws entered the room, closely followed by more Slytherins. After a moment, Lyra turned back to eye the two Weasleys speculatively. "I kind of see what everyone's been talking about. For all that he's an annoying first-year boy, your cousin's hot."

Roxy giggled as Lucy glanced from their blonde cousin to her friend, expression aghast.

"Oh Merlin. Oh great Godric Gryffindor strike me dead please don't. There are enough girls already trying to befriend me to get closer to my older cousins." Lucy said. "Louis's just another bewildered thick-headed first-year. Just listen to him."

The three girls looked back at the two clumps of students who were awkwardly eyeing each other, seemingly oblivious to their three spectators. The last two weeks had passed in a blur of trying to get their bearings in the castle, and the first-years were still wary of those from other houses. Finally, a friendly looking boy with dirty blonde hair stepped forward from the cluster of Ravenclaws. Roxy remembered seeing him with Louis several times over the past couple of weeks.

"Hey. I'm Mark Wood-Bell," he said. His audience exchanged impressed looks.

"Wood-Bell? Like the son of Oliver and Katie Wood-Bell?"

"Man, my little brother has posters of your parents all over his room."

"Do you play Quidditch as well?"

"Of course he does, his last name is _Wood-Bell _for crying out loud."

"Maybe you can convince Thomas to let you play this year. With your brother captaining Gryffindor, the rest of us are screwed."

"How's your other brother liking Puddlemere? I hear he's already carving out a name for himself."

_Now_ Roxy remembered the other reason the boy looked familiar. Mark looked slightly sheepish at the comments his name had spurred, but his introduction had certainly broken the ice. He shoved Louis forward as the two groups seemed to ease around each other.

"Louis," Roxy heard her cousin offer. It didn't escape her notice that he had omitted his last name. Louis, meanwhile, seemed to register her and Lucy's scrutiny. As he glanced over and saw them, he raised his eyebrows deliberately, almost challenging them to say something.

Roxy and Lucy remained silent, but watched as part of the group followed Louis's gaze before one of them began to make her way over, tugging a few others behind her. The leader looked identical to Mark apart from her longer hair and green garb. _Liz _Wood-Bell. Roxy recognized the girl from her own dorm, but had thus far only spoken to her in passing.

Liz seemed to have assumed they were hanging back out of shyness, for she began to introduce those around her.

"This is Poppy McMillan, Akash Patil, and David Weller from Ravenclaw," she gestured. "You know Liam Flint and Theo Nott from our dorm, of course. Guys, Lyra Zabini and Roxy and Lucy W—"

"Hi, nice to meet you." "Great to meet you." Roxy and Lucy exchanged startled looks as they simultaneously cut Liz off.

"I couldn't help but overhear what you were talking about earlier. Isn't it so unfair that first-years aren't allowed to play on house teams?" Lucy spoke quickly to cover the awkward moment, uncharacteristically turning to Quidditch.

Roxy blinked as Liz replied enthusiastically. She had no idea why she had interrupted Liz. Or maybe she did. She looked up and her eyes unexpectedly met those of Lucy and Louis, who both wore inscrutable expressions. The trio stared at each other for a few moments. Finally, Louis broke the tension with a rare wink and shrug of his shoulders.

It seemed she wasn't the only one of her cousins happy to occasionally distance herself from the five over-the-top Gryffindor members of her family currently at Hogwarts.

For the rest of class, Roxy fell into the conversation around her. Finally, Professor Zabini began wrapping things up. Roxy made to leave with the four boys who had come over with Liz and with whom she had found herself laughing for the majority of class. However, a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned to meet the gaze of Liz.

"You _do _know that I know you're a _Weasley_, right?"

"Listen. I'm Roxy. Just Roxy. It doesn't matter who my family is—"

The girl cut her off with a sardonic grin. "Trust me. I'm not interested in your family because of your parents or aunts or uncles or anything. After all, Mark and I get it. We're in Slytherin and Ravenclaw. My other brothers and parents and everyone else in our family were Gryffindors. But. Our parents are good friends, right? And Teddy's basically your cousin, right? My brother Jack is his best friend. I just wanted to know how he is. Remember, Mark and I were at his wedding?"

_Damn_. Roxy had forgotten that third reason why the Wood-Bell twins looked so familiar. Liz laughed at Roxy's sheepish expression.

"Sorry. It's just—" Roxy was cut off as Lucy came running back into the room and grabbed Roxy's arm.

"Roxy! Come quick! Al was in a fight!" Roxy threw one quick glance back at Liz before her thoughts followed the direction of her feet as Lucy tugged her away. _Al_—not _James—_had been in a fight?

o0O0o

Al _could_ say he and Rose were walking between classes, but a more accurate description would be that he was fending off his cousin as she gave voice to one of her favorite rants. _Again._

"Honestly—" She drew out the word in a manner that had not been heard in Hogwarts since her mother had been a student. "_Why_ are you so eager to try out for something that really just amounts to a bunch of buffoons in uniform throwing around some balls?"

Al sighed. "_Rose_. You've delivered this line to me so many in the last twelve years that I'm surprised you don't wake up saying it occasionally. Don't you think that if you haven't convinced me that Quidditch is a waste of time yet you're never going to?"

"But now you're at Hogwarts. You have so many better things you could be doing. Homework, Dueling Club—"

She stopped as a loud thudding sound came from ahead. The two exchanged looks before speeding up and turning the corner. Al felt his stomach turn as he took in the scene in front of him.

A tall broad-shouldered boy was pinning a much smaller boy up against the wall while two other boys jeered behind him. Al recognized the first as a fifth year Slytherin prefect and his two companions as Ravenclaw upper years.

The pale smaller boy was Scorpius Malfoy.

Rose grabbed Al's hand before tugging him backwards. "Come on. I'm allergic to those with backstabbing blood like _him_," she said, glaring at the pinned second-year. For once, Al did not argue with his cousin.

Scorpius Malfoy was Al's proof that some families did not really reform and that the Sorting Hat really did mess up sometimes.

Equipped with a patience his father had not found until he was much older, Al rarely got mad at anyone. However, his verbal—and nonverbal—sparring matches with Scorpius had reached even higher levels of explositivity than Rose's by the end of last year.

Given the influence of Al's brother and cousins, Scorpius was thus very much forced to remain on the fringes of his house—Gryffindor—but still managed to one-up Al half the time. Mainly, Al admitted, because Scorpius was a bloody—and a bloody _sarcastic_—genius.

Their childrens' relationship with the gray-eyed Malfoy heir had come to Ron's delight and Harry's dismay, but even Harry's nonstop owls about tolerance had not been able to curb Al's tongue.

Now though, Scorpius' own normally haughty expression seemed forced next to his bloody upper lip and white expression. Despite himself, Al found himself feeling like a bit of a swine for leaving the boy in the clutches of the older students.

When the two Ravenclaws moved to cut off Al and Rose's retreat, however, he realized he had larger problems.

"_Oh look_. It's the Gryffindor spawn of the _Merlin kissed _Hero-of-the-Wizarding-World and his lackey."

"Be careful. If you scare him into wetting his pants, his daddy might decide to vanquish you."

Al raised his wand but an _expelliarmus _sent both it and Rose's flying to the ground before he could do anything. The two larger boys shoved him and Rose against the wall next to Scorpius.

_That's it,_ Al decided. He needed to have a talk with Rose about running blindly around corners if they got out of this.

"How nice of you to join us Potter, Weasley. It's rare you're far away from the protection of your cousins." The Slytherin prefect eased the pressure he was holding Scorpius with as he considered the two. "My father has a bit of a bone to pick with your father, but I suppose this will do."

Was it bad that amidst all the dark families his father had pissed off twenty years ago, Al had no idea what this particular Slytherin's father's problem was?

"You think no one's going to notice if you curse the hell out of us?" he challenged.

"You're nothing but wannabe _Death Eaters_. Well guess what? My family kicked your kind's arses two decades ago." Rose jumped in fiercely, scowling at Al when he stomped on her foot. _Now's not the time, Rose, _he thought, groaning. Even Scorpius shot her a disbelieving look.

The Ravenclaws looked rather insulted. They glared at Rose. "Your family needs to be knocked from its pedestal. It's disgusting the way even the professors kiss your filthy robes."

Al could feel Rose grab his hand as the older wizards stepped forward. Al's mouth went dry. What's the use in being a Gryffindor if he was completely helpless when attacked? He flinched as the two raised their wands.

_"__Expelliarmus!"_ a strong voice rang out unexpectedly, followed by a bright scarlet light. Al watched, startled, as the three older boys were thrown back with the force of the spell. The caster stepped forward, flinging his arm, and Al instinctively caught the wand thrown at his face, noticing Rose and Scorpius do the same out of his corner of his eye. As the figure moved to stand between the two groups, his face was revealed.

"_Blake?_" Al blurted in disbelief.

Seph Blake, the second-year transfer, had remained an elusive mystery. He had avoided everyone who had tried to talk with him, shrugging off Rose's dogged attempts with an uncanny ability to discreetly disappear every time she cornered him. In classes, he had been very cold and standoffish…but never outright rude. After two weeks, the only thing Al knew for sure about the other boy was that his performance in nearly every class outshone even that of Rose and Scorpius.

Al's emerald eyes locked with the other boys' deep blue ones before the latter whirled around to face the three older students, wand raised.

"_Leave_. We may be second years, but even we can do some damage when we have wands and you don't." The boy's voice was icy.

The older boys bristled as they took in the figure addressing them, particularly how short the second-year was.

"You just made a really bad decision, new kid. But if you want to pick up some bruises alongside golden boy, golden girl, and traitor here, that's your call," the Slytherin ground out before lunging forward.

_"__Stupefy!" _A bright red light spun from the blue-eyed boy's wand to strike the larger boy attacking him.

Al's eyes widened as he saw the other two moving towards Scorpius. "_Tarantallegra!" _he yelled without thinking.

His spell hit home and one of the pair's legs began moving uncontrollably. Scorpius looked between the cursed figure and Al, eyes widening. Then he blinked and shoved Al and Rose to the side. Al stared as he saw a fist from the remaining older boy pass where his head was a second earlier. It was his turn to look at Scorpius in surprise. The blonde boy looked as if was as shocked by his action as Al was.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" Al heard Seph yell out. The last figure suddenly fell down to the ground, immobilized.

The blue-eyed boy cast one glance at the recovering Slytherin perfect before grabbing Al and Scorpius's hands and running back down the corridor, shooting a quick "Come on!" at Rose.

The four ran, panting, only stopping when the Great Hall was in sight.

"Thanks," Al gasped out to Seph. When the other boy didn't respond for several moments, Al turned to Scorpius instead, unnerved by the cool stare. He deliberated for a moment before speaking reluctantly. "To you to." Rose made a strangled noise as Scorpius's eyebrow's shot upwards. The blonde stared at Al for a moment before rolling his eyes.

"I suppose your wandwork, Potter, although _completely _sloppy, did what it was supposed to as well," he drawled, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

Rose made another indignant sound, as Al was startled into a grin. "You're allowed to thank me you know."

Scorpius's only response was to snort.

As he saw his cousin open her mouth to speak, Al slammed on her foot once more—not missing Scorpius's amused glance—before speaking again. "You know—" he paused, biting his lip. "I hear you're a really good chaser. You should consider trying out for the Gryffindor team." Now, the Malfoy heir looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

"_Al!_" Rose shrieked, staring at her cousin in disbelief.

The stream of professors and students—Al could pick out Lucy and Roxy—that began to pour in from one direction and the three enraged fifth years that ran in from another found themselves looking at four second-years, staring with wide-eyes at each other.

o0O0o

_3 September 1998_

The cloaked figure stared at his friend before offering the briefest of smirks. He disappeared with a loud crack. Hundreds of miles away, he stumbled into place, taking in his surroundings. He was standing in the middle of a narrow street, the surrounding houses just visible under the streetlights in the descending night.

Even as he began to make his way forward, sticking to the darkest spots, lights began to flash ahead of him. _Good, this was the right place._

The figure broke into a run. He finally arrived at a moderate sized house with a large front yard, dotted with figures. As they cast spells and yelled at one another, around a dozen individuals could be made out. Half of them wore masks. Concealing himself behind a tree, the cloaked figure waited for the right moment.

Three of the masked men fell. Then another took out one of their opponents before crumpling to the ground himself. As their five remaining opponents moved to encircle the remaining two with masks, the cloaked figure threw himself forward.

A jet of blue light leapt from his wand as his bone-breaking curse knocked one of the unmasked figures to the ground. A quickly following blasting spell hit the ground in front of another, throwing its victim backwards.

The five remaining figures—masked and unmasked—whirled to face the new entrant. Unflinching, the cloaked figure slashed his wand at another one of the unmasked forms. The two masked figures, deciding this new figure did not pose an immediate threat, took the opportunity to launch back into attacking their weakened enemy. Very quickly, only one of their enemies was left.

"Lucius, please—" the cornered figure gasped out.

"I warned you, Burkes. But you made your choice. Now, you must face the consequences." A green light cut off any further pleading.

As silence descended back over the street, the cloaked figure moved to straighten from his last spell. Before he was fully upright, however, a wand jammed itself at his throat.

"Who are you?" the masked figure in front of him—the one who had been called Lucius—snarled.

"An ally."

"How did you find us?" The voice emerging from the remaining masked figure was low and rough.

The cloaked figure seemed to weigh his possible responses for a moment. "I've been tracking you for some time," he finally said.

As his cloak was roughly pulled back, the figure winced but made no move to resist. Although their expressions were concealed, the two wizards in front of him clearly stiffened as his face was revealed. Although his dark hair framed steely brown eyes, the figure who intervened couldn't have been more than seventeen or eighteen.

The boy met their gazes head on, however. "I heard tell of your master from abroad. He intrigued me. I came here to possibly offer my services."

The two masked wizards exchanged glances before the second shoved him forward.

"Foreigner or lying mudblood scum—it doesn't matter. You interfered with a Death Eater mission. You're the Dark Lord's business now, and it's his decision whether he wants you dead or not." The masked figure paused before roughly pulling his captive forward to hiss in his ear. "For your sake, I hope you're not lying."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Any guesses as to who our cloaked figure is?


	4. Quidditch: James and Al

Here is some James! And a little more Al.

* * *

_CHAPTER 4: QUIDDITCH_

_James and Al_

_2 October 2018_

James Sirius Potter grabbed a piece of bread as he turned towards his younger brother and two cousins. "It's hot today, so we'll have a hard kickoff. The sun's glare might be a problem, so avoid being blinded, or, better yet—"

"—maneuver your opponents so they're facing it," Fred finished, smirking.

James nodded. "Exactly." He glanced at his brother and was unsurprised to see him looking slightly green. "Obviously Gareth is going to be focusing on you newbies, instead of those of us who were on the team last year"—he watched with interest as Al's face turned a shade greener—"but you're a damn good player, Al. So don't do something stupid like wet your pants."

His brother, ungrateful swine that he was, didn't reply.

Dom winked at the younger boy. "Between the seeker and two chaser spots, you're bound to get something."

Fred's wand twirled lazily in his grasp. "Who else is going to make the team, do you reckon? I heard Sam Corner, from your year Al, is going to tryout. He's Demelza and Michael's son, so if he's any good—"

"Not good enough," interrupted James. His mum was close with the Corners, and James had seen the second-year play numerous times before.

Alice, who had been watching them with a bored expression, cut in before Fred could reply. "Must all your conversations revolve around Quidditch? Look—" she gestured at Rose who had been studiously ignoring her family as she poured over that morning's edition of the _Dailey Prophet. _Dark figures moved under a large headline. "Real world things."

James raised his eyebrows dubiously.

"Rose, what's got you so engrossed?" Alice finished desperately.

"Huh?" Rose looked up brushing bushy hair away from her eyes. "Oh." Her brow furrowed. "There's been a series of attacks across England. They think it's a group working in tandem given how spread out they've been. Dark magic, seemingly random targets…" she trailed off.

"Dark attacks happen all the time," James waved his hand. Indeed, although it was nowhere near as bad as it had been during—or even right after the wars—pockets of dark spell-casters were always emerging and fading away across the country. It had freaked James out the first five hundred times his father got involved but now he was used to it. "Now, _Quidditch _on the other hand—"

James grinned as he saw a smirking Rose meet Alice's eyes briefly. "Trust me. It's no use," he heard his younger cousin mutter.

James reconsidered his grin as he saw Alice's eyes glint dangerously.

"Fred! Stop talking with James about damn Quidditch!" the brown-haired girl yelled.

"Sure, princess," Fred winked. James glared at him. "Err, I mean later," his cousin amended, before glancing again at Alice. "I mean—"

"Whipped," Dom coughed. "Twice over. Does Alice know of your and James' secret love affair?"

"You're just jealous because you want a boyfriend," Fred threw back, shoving away the arm a grinning James had snaked around him.

"My one true love is Quidditch. No boy could compete," said Dom.

"Not to mention you're loud, blunt, and vivacious, sorry _vicious_, in everything from paybacks to Quidditch," James murmured.

Dom grinned. "That too."

"Who are you looking for?" James suddenly changed topics, staring at his brother as he caught the younger boy during what must have been his dozenth glance around the room since the start of their conversation. Al jumped, startled.

"I'm waiting for Scorpius," he replied.

"_What?_" James scowled. Since whatever it was that had gone down between Al, Rose, Scorpius, the new second-year, and the bullies from Slytherin and Ravenclaw, his brother had been spending quite a bit of time with the Malfoy heir. James did not approve. "We need to work on your friend choosing skills," he decided. He saw Lucy and Roxy at the Slytherin table sitting amidst a group of first years, before nodding towards them. "See. _They_ know how to choose respectable friends."

Al glanced over before scowling back. "_James_ there are kids of Death Eaters there too." James noticed with interest that Al's bright green eyes took on the fierce look they occasionally got. "Remember what Dad said? Prejudices—"

"The Malfoys are the most prejudiced family in existence. Please. _Come to your senses _and return to trading hexes with him instead of cups of tea." Rose had finally looked up from her paper.

"What she said," said James, reaching for treacle tart. He cocked his head casually. "I don't think Malfoy's going to arrive anytime soon anyway."

Al's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What? Why?"

"Well, I saw Damien Rosier and Lucas Parkinson head toward the Gryffindor common room mentioning his name..."

Al yelped before rapidly getting up and running away. Fred and Dom started snickering, while Alice's eyes widened.

"Did you really?"

"No. But did you notice how Al's no longer drowning in his nerves about Quidditch?" James smirked, before turning towards Rose, a disapproving stare on his face. "You need to keep a better leash on my brother. What were you thinking, letting him convince _Malfoy_ to try out for the Quidditch team?"

Rose eyebrows narrowed, but before she could open her mouth, the group was interrupted by another voice.

"Is Al around?"

James whirled around. Standing before them was the new second-year. Blake. Over the past couple of weeks, the dark-haired boy had transitioned from a quiet, invisible shadow to a quiet, present shadow, always attached to either Al or Scorpius. Despite the rumors flying about Blake's takedown of the bullies—not to mention his continuing prowess in class—James found the younger boy to be oddly vulnerable looking. As the three older students considered him for several long seconds, he could see Blake's shoulders tense.

"Never m—" the boy began to say.

"Al just went to go retrieve Scorpius. He should be back soon," Rose interrupted.

"Why don't you sit down?" James added.

"I'll go find Al," Blake spun on his heels, appearing as if he hadn't heard him.

"James was giving Al some Quidditch tips. Since you're trying out, you might want to talk to him," said Rose.

"Wait, _you're_ trying out?" Fred's voice was disbelieving.

James found himself looking into dark blue eyes as Blake's head turned. Then, without warning, the boy shrugged before walking off without another word.

James's brother had the oddest taste in friends.

o0O0o

Al threw a pillow at the pale blonde in front of him.

"_Potter_. What exactly do you think you're doing?" Icy gray eyes bore into him as Scorpius looked up from lacing his shoes. Seph snorted from where he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching the pair.

"We're going to be late. Hurry up," Al said.

Scorpius stared at him for a second longer, before rolling his eyes. "_Alright. _Hold your hippogriffs." The blonde straightened before grabbing his broomstick—a Suncatcher—off of his bed. He smirked as Seph ducked out of the arm he tried to throw around the shorter boy. "And here I thought our friendship meant something," said Scorpius.

Seph raised his eyebrows as the trio began making their way down the stairs. "Hardly. I just put up with you for Al's sake."

"I'm wounded," Scorpius drawled.

"Stop baiting him," Al told the blonde.

"I like baiting him. It's how I satisfy my curiosity since he bloody evades all our questions about him."

Al winced as Seph suddenly stilled. He could see a flicker of surprise dart across Seph's face before it smoothed into a guarded expression. Al cut in before the other boy could speak, and cobalt eyes shifted to him warily. "We're not daft," he said carefully. "Yes, you've told us the basics—you never knew your parents, a wizarding family took you in…but you always change the topic when the conversation turns to your background."

Seph suddenly looked away. "I don't avoid your questions," he said quietly.

Al and Scorpius exchanged looks.

"Ok," Al broke the tension. "Let's hurry. There is no way in Azkaban I'm missing tryouts."

Seph was quiet the rest of the way to the field.

o0O0o

_5 November 2018_

"—a brilliant pass from Potter and WOOD-BELL SCORES BRINGING THE SCORE TO A WHOPPING 100-30 GRYFFINDOR! Slytherin back in possession—Rosier passes to Greengrass—but Potter snipes it out of the air yet again!" Excitement laced Max Boot's voice as he yelled out over the Quidditch pitch.

"Wood-Bell's legacy stacked team seems determined to smash all suggestions that they were picked for their fame instead of their talent. Potter—that is Al, not James—in particular is pulling off an incredible debut proving that he, even more than his older brother perhaps, has inherited the talent of his mother, former Holyhead Harpies Chaser Ginny Potter.

Boot ducked as a bludger came whizzing near his head. "Looks like James took offense to that," he chuckled. "Rosier has the Quaffle again…he's close enough to the Gryffindor hoop…he shoots…and Weasley blocks the goal!"

"Malfoy grabs the Quaffle—but wait—it seems Blake, the Gryffindor Seeker, has seen the snitch!"

James paused in the air, head swiveling around to see a tiny figure darting in a tight arc near the Gryffindor goalposts. If Al was an incredible player—which he was, not that James would ever say that out loud—Seph wasn't far behind.

"Smith is hot on Blake's heels—"

James sped towards Seph as he saw the Slytherin chaser closing in. From the angle he was coming in from, he suddenly saw both Bludgers racing towards Seph. James felt his stomach turn. Seph had clearly not noticed the soaring black balls and was still streaking after the snitch. James could not reach both Bludgers in time, and Fred was on the other side of the field where he had been assisting the chasers.

The commentary paused as Boot and the crowd noticed the situation. James saw Seph glance behind him at the Bludgers, before the seeker turned back around and leaned forward, urging his broom to go faster.

"Blake ignores the Bludgers and continues after the Snitch. He doesn't seem to realize he isn't going fast enough—"

James took a deep breath—

"_Thwack!_"

"An unbelievable hit from Potter who whacks one Bludger straight into the other, knocking both of path! And BLAKE CATCHES THE SNITCH! 250-30! A devastating win by Gryffindor! Wood-Bell again shows off his legendary captaining skills with the four Potter-Weasleys tearing up the field! The two newcomers did not disappoint either! Slytherin's not going to be able to recover—"

James ignored the rest of the commentary as he sped towards his team. As they all collided into each other, James could see Al, Scorpius, and Seph grinning. Seph turned to smile at him, and James realized this was the first time he had seen the younger boy so carefree.

"All hail King Gareth! King Gareth!" James, Fred, and Dom began chanting, punching their captain who snorted and pushed them away.

The seven Gryffindors began to stumble their way back to the castle, surrounded by the rest of their cheering house. James—along with Fred and Dom—was reverently telling everyone that Gareth was even better than his older brother Jack.

"—Gareth! All hail King Gareth!"

The crowd began slowing in front of them, however, and James frowned as the cause of the delay came into view. About a dozen Ministry officials were apparating onto the scene. James recognized what seemed to be their leader, a man name Rufus Fudge, nephew of the late Minister of Magic. He ransacked his mind, trying to remember more. That's right. His dad had said that Fudge was part of a faction of Ministry members who were part of the old government, but still remained influential due to their substantial connections and wealth.

The crowd had grown silent, and James suddenly realized the Ministry members were making their way towards the Gryffindor team. Suddenly, Fudge pointed his wand at a white-faced Seph.

"What is the meaning of this, Fudge? Why are you pointing a wand at my student?" McGonagall's furious voice suddenly came from the crowd, who parted to make way for her.

Fudge sneered at her. "_Your student_ needs to come in for questioning. Our aurors are telling us that the dark attacks are more widespread and organized than we originally thought. They also have begun reflecting the patterns of another group we knew well: _Death Eaters._"

McGonagall voice was as terrifying as James had ever heard it. "We talked about this when Seph Blake was admitted to my school. He is _a twelve year-old_. You will not jump to conclusions about him."

"About_ him?_" Fudge's voice was unexpectedly vicious.

James glanced at Seph's parchment white face, which had no remaining traces of the happiness that had been there minutes earlier. The rest of the crowd had fallen completely still.

"Seph _Blake_ is not just a twelve year-old. Twenty-one years ago, a Death Eater cast a spell to artificially impregnate a witch and leave her in stasis for several years. It was a fail safe—" Fudge began.

"_Rufus_. _You will not speak of this here_." Was McGonagall threatening Fudge?

"—so the caster's _spawn_ could emerge years later, with no obvious ties to the Death Eater and safe in the case that the Death Eaters were eradicated."

_"__Rufus!"_

"_This boy_ _is the result_," Fudge spat out the last sentence, eyes gleaming as they locked with the Headmistress's. He ignored her brandished wand. "I know, because I was one of the few trusted with the secret of his existence up until now. But the Death Eater didn't perform the spell using himself."

James wasn't the only one whose eyes were darting between the Ministry official, Headmistress, and second-year student. Fudge looked triumphant. McGonagall's expression promised retribution. Seph looked as if he was trapped in a nightmare he couldn't get out of.

"This boy is Voldemort's son. Seph_ Riddle_. Are you really going to defend him?"

McGonagall seemed to deflate as two Ministry officials seized Seph's arms and began hauling him away. Seph didn't protest. Didn't look back at any of the students.

"Stop! You can't—" Out of the corner of his eye, James could see Fred holding a struggling Al who was yelling at the figures holding his friend. As he turned towards the pair, he saw his younger brother break free and sprint towards the officials, but with a crack, they were all gone, before Al could reach them.

* * *

A/N: And now you know who Seph is. Reactions? What's going to happen with Seph?


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